


Eternal Soulmate

by dk323



Series: Eternal Soulmate [1]
Category: Forever (TV)
Genre: M/M, Reunion, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-29
Updated: 2015-05-29
Packaged: 2018-04-01 03:30:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4004164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dk323/pseuds/dk323
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where each person has their soulmate’s first words said to them tattooed on their forearm, an old friend of Henry’s returns.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eternal Soulmate

**Author's Note:**

> ~ I do not own the characters from Forever. They belong to Warner Bros. Television. ~
> 
> This story includes references to 1x03 ("Fountain of Youth"), 1x11 ("Skinny Dipper") and 1x14 ("Hitler on the Half Shell"). It's AU in terms of the finale as Adam hasn't been stopped by Henry.
> 
> I decided to use the soulmate/tattoo idea after seeing it on a Tumblr post -- a coffeeshop! au ficlet for a different slash pairing in a different fandom ->Author of ficlet: monicashipscoliver (Tumblr)/thekingslover (AO3). Link: [Starbucks AU](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3389297)
> 
> Didn't know it was a Tumblr thing, but I took the idea and ran with it.

Abe looked up when he heard the door open and a nervous-appearing customer entered the shop. 

“Hello there. How may I help you this morning?”

“I’m looking for someone actually,” said the man, smiling weakly. 

The thirty-something man had curly brown hair and green eyes – so brilliant in color. Hard to forget a man with eyes like that.

“I can help you if you tell me their name.”

The man’s eyes shifted in the direction of the door. His age made Abe consider that perhaps he was looking for Henry? Although he would have known of any Henry’s acquaintances. This young man was wholly unfamiliar to him, and he sounded American, so not a fellow Brit.

“I’m sorry. My sister put me up to this, but I think it’s better I go,” the man said quickly. 

The man turned away, ready to leave.

“No, hey, wait. Are you looking for Henry Morgan?” Abe shot out, determined not to let the man go without getting his question answered.

The man stiffened. He looked back at Abe, and told him quickly before perhaps he’d lose his nerve, “Just…if you could, tell him that James Carter came to see him.”

Then he was out the door before Abe had a chance to respond.

~ * ~

James knew he was being followed. For almost a year now, he’d had this stalker who nearly drove him crazy. He could never get a good look at him. He always escaped, slipping around the corner or into a crowd.

He knew that the stalker was a man due to one phone call a few weeks ago. A male voice threatened him, saying, “I know you’ve returned.” And maybe he’d grown a little paranoid lately, but he felt that this unknown stalker had discovered his secret in some way. 

And as James tried to cope with this new reality, it didn’t help that a complete stranger knew about him. Someone who was watching him. Someone who could hurt him…if he wasn’t careful.

He didn’t know why he had decided to seek out Henry Morgan. He wasn’t sure what he would say to him, or if Henry would think he’d lost his mind. Or maybe it wasn’t the Henry Morgan he had known after all. 

Yet the research he and his sister had done, even traveling to London last year, couldn’t be refuted.

He caught a glimpse of a dark figure watching him from the next street corner. 

James stared him down. The man’s face was half-covered by a crimson scarf, but his eyes were pinned on him. Then decisively, James turned his back on him and refused to let the stalker ruin the rest of his day.

Unfortunately all the while, he couldn’t help but wonder, “Is he going to kill me?”

~ * ~

In retrospect, Abe decided he shouldn’t have told Henry about this James Carter while he was holding cup of hot tea in his hands. 

Luckily Abe was beside him and took the cup from him before it spilled.

Henry’s face had gone pale and he stared blankly ahead.

“I take it you know him?” Abe ventured, setting the cup down on the table.

“What?” Henry said distractedly.

“James Carter?”

“I knew him,” Henry corrected. He sighed, taking a seat at the table. “He was a good friend of mine, a fellow doctor. But the James I knew died almost one hundred and nine years ago. I don’t know who you met. It can’t have been him.”

Abe sat down beside him, nursing his own cup of tea. 

He peered thoughtfully at Henry. “You think it could be someone like Adam who knows about your condition? And knows about James?”

“It’s not possible… I don’t understand. Why would he pretend to be James of all people?”

“Maybe Adam would know something. You could try contacting him. He did help with finding out about my birth parents. He could help you too.”

“The less I work with that man, the better. I’d rather not,” Henry said, sounding especially stubborn about that.

Abe changed the subject, seeing Henry’s face darken at just the mention of the man. “You never told me about James. What was he like?”

“He was full of optimism and he had a zest for life.”

“What happened to him?”

“James contracted tuberculosis. Though he tried to find a cure, there wasn’t much he or anyone could do. And then he courageously accepted his fate even if his life was being cut short,” he said, a sadness in his voice as he remembered his friend. “With my immortality, I sometimes forget the finality of death… to know this is the end, there’s no waking up in the water and living again. And I watched him die, knowing this good man, this close friend, would never see another sunrise.”

“You miss him.”

Henry nodded. “Still, he was only a mortal man. He can’t have come back from the dead.”

“I looked him up, but no James Carter lives in the area. Maybe he goes by a different name to everyone else. Or he came from out of town, but he sounded like he was from here. I was considering --”

He paused when he noticed Henry rubbing his arm, the one that held the tattoo of his soulmate’s first words. Everyone had one. While some were lucky in finding their other halves, others weren’t. Despite his long life, his father hadn’t discovered his. Although he certainly wasn’t alone there as Abe hadn’t found his yet. No matter how he hoped the tattoo would be wrong, he logically knew that the tattoo was the final say on your soulmate.

After all, though his father loved his mother with all his heart; it wasn’t only his immortality that forced his mother to leave the two of them. 

While his father was his mother’s soulmate, she wasn’t his. Abe remembered when he first learned that terrible truth, and he had been angry, so angry, hating those tattoos and wishing they never existed. That it was unfair, and that surely, with his father’s immortality, the tattoo worked differently on him. He still couldn’t believe, with how much love he’d seen his father have for his mother that she wasn’t his soulmate.

“Life isn’t fair,” his father had told him then, sounding resigned and weary. 

“What is it?” Abe asked his father now as he continued to rub his forearm. 

He looked at him, distracted, as if he wasn’t sure where he was. He gave a tight-lipped smile that only made Abe worry more. “Nothing, nothing. Just a slight burning sensation. I’m fine.”

His father stood up, prepared to leave. 

“Dad, wait,” he beckoned him back. Using ‘dad’ usually helped in getting Henry to stop and pay attention. “What do we do about James?”

He shrugged. “Nothing for now. If he comes back, we’ll discuss it further then.” 

“If you want. He’s your friend,” Abe conceded. 

Perhaps James Carter would decide to return.

Hopefully that sister of his he brought up would persuade him to try again. 

After all, if he wanted to see Henry then he couldn’t stay away forever. 

~ * ~

Henry had trouble falling sleep. That tattoo was still bothering him. After all these years, he accepted that those words didn’t matter due to his immortality.

Abigail was and would always be his soulmate. The tattoo was wrong. He was determined to believe that.

Now with the return of James Carter, or a man calling himself that, Henry’s mind traveled back to the long gone past, over a hundred years ago. 

_Not long after they’d met, Henry couldn’t miss the lack of tattoo on James’ forearm when he’d rolled up his sleeves. He was examining a patient._

_Henry waited until the end of their shift to ask James about it._

_James’ face fell, his eyes took on a haunted quality and lost the lightness Henry had been drawn to the moment he’d met him._

_He felt awful for bringing up the subject. He couldn’t bear to see James look so despondent. And after all, Henry knew better. Knew what no tattoo usually meant. For that to happen to James was a grave injustice._

_“I am sorry, my friend. I didn’t mean to. Please forget I said anything,” Henry said and he turned to leave._

_James grabbed his arm. He wouldn’t let him go. Henry faced him again. James gave him a weak smile. “No, Henry. It’s okay. I expected this to happen. Unavoidable.”_

_“If you can’t, I understand.”_

_“It’s hard to speak of it out loud, Henry. My soulmate died before I met them. I was just nineteen when the tattoo disappeared. It’s not been easy but it’s merely a truth of my life. I will never have a soulmate. But I can do my best to live a life I can be proud of.”_

_“And that I know you will. You’re a good man, James. Remember that.”_

_James smiled. “Thank you, Henry.”_

_The light returned to his eyes. He touched the nape of Henry’s neck, fleetingly like the touch of a ghost._

_His condition often led him to grim musings. Because of that, Henry was grateful for a friend like James to help him see the world as a much brighter, forgiving place._

_Then he clapped his arm about Henry’s shoulders. “Enough of this. You and I both could use a drink.”_

_Henry nodded. “I would have to agree.”_

_James grinned at him, and Henry vowed never to discuss his lack of tattoo again. If only so he wouldn’t be the cause of James’ unhappiness._

He thought with time, losing James would be easier but it wasn’t. Losing a dear friend would never be easy. 

Henry could never forget him. 

~ * ~

The next night, James came back to Abe’s Antiques. Taking a deep breath, he looked down at the envelope containing the letter he’d written to Henry. The letter had things that only he and Henry would know. He hoped maybe that would help if he had trouble getting the right words out.

Before he could knock on the door, James was forcefully turned around and dread filled him. He knew who it was. He just saw the Taser held in his stalker’s hands before the sharp shooting pain overtook him. He fell, the envelope slipping out of his hands.

~ * ~

Henry still had difficulty sleeping the following night. He kept tossing and turning, and then just decided to give up. He concluded that perhaps some calming tea would be a welcome idea. 

But as he made his way down, Henry was struck by a sense of wrongness. Worry began to nag at him and his tattoo started to make its presence known once again. He’d hoped that he’d be left in peace when the tattoo had stopped causing him discomfort all that day. 

He was drawn into the store and opened the door to the outside. Feeling the tattoo’s burning subside, Henry knew he was doing the right thing. 

Looking down, he saw a very out of place white envelope lying on the ground. Like it had been left behind, abandoned.

He picked it up and he almost dropped it when he read the writing on the white surface.

The words hadn’t startled him. No. It was the familiar handwriting.

For on the envelope was written his name: Henry Morgan in handwriting he remembered well. 

James Carter had written this. And upon reading the letter contained within, he was left with little doubt that his old friend had returned.

But he feared that something had gone horribly awry. Henry could tell the envelope hadn’t been purposefully left in front of Abe’s store. 

The envelope’s owner – very likely the man going by James who Abe had talked to – had been unwillingly taken. 

~ * ~

Henry felt powerless as he didn’t have much to go on. Abe offered to come into the police station and provide a description of the man who had come into the store. 

Yet Henry questioned whether the man had really been James. After all, Abe had described him as having striking green eyes, and that’s not how he remembered James Carter.

“Henry,” Abe brought up as they headed to the police station. “I’ve been thinking over the possibility that reincarnation is real like immortality. It would explain any differences in appearance. There’s no rule that you have to look the same as in your past life. Not to mention the belief that we can be reborn as a different species entirely. Maybe this James has a different identity in this life, but he’s remembered his past life. And he decided to seek you out.”

“You make a good point, Abraham,” Henry agreed. He sighed, trapped in his thoughts.

He had been so stuck in only seeing his immortality as a way to live on. But no. Reincarnation could be another way. Maybe it wasn’t just a product of religious beliefs. Maybe he himself could be an incarnation, and he didn’t even know yet.

For some reason, this man who had been abducted had been given the memories of his past life back. 

What if that was why he was taken? Someone who knew he was more than a mortal man? But a man with two sets of memories inside his head?

Henry had to find him. 

~ * ~

James woke up to discover he was strapped into a heavy wooden chair. The stalker sharpening a dagger on a whetstone.

“What do you want from me?” James demanded, trying vainly to lift his arms, to force the straps to loosen.

The stalker smiled, looking all too self-satisfied with himself. He held up the ancient-appearing dagger in his hands as if to inspect it.

“What is that?”

As James asked, he was trying to stamp down the terrible déjà vu upon seeing the weapon. 

He closed his eyes and forced himself to forget. He needed to, to get through this nightmare.

Opening his eyes, he looked defiantly at his abductor, eyes boring holes into him, wishing that looks could truly kill. 

“A Roman dagger,” said the man. “One of the most important items I’ve been fortunate enough to obtain.”

“You stole it,” James accused, certain of that.

His stalker smirked. “I have special plans for the dagger, and for you. I know all about you, particularly your past life and your association with a certain Dr. Henry Morgan.”

His eyes narrowed. “How?”

“Time travel, into the past and the future. Very useful I have to say. Especially to spot out any immortals.”

“Why are you holding me here? I’m not interested in whatever stupid plan you might have.”

“Oh no, Dr. Carter, I beg to differ. This dagger here is very good at changing minds.”

James tried to stamp down the pure fear threatening to overwhelm him. The man had left him anxious, always looking behind his shoulder for months now. He’d be damned if he’d let the stalker succeed in his plan.

~ * ~

It was approaching dawn when he and Abe reached the police station. After they exited the parked car, they saw a woman who looked as worried as Henry felt. Her red hair was tied up in a quick ponytail and her eyes were a startling green. When she made eye contact with Henry, her eyes widened.

Abe nudged him. “Henry. Her eyes remind me of that man’s.” 

The woman approached them. 

“Excuse me, are you Dr. Henry Morgan?” She asked him. 

“Yes, how do you know me?”

“I’m Charlotte. I’m sorry… my brother went to see you last night, but he’s gone missing. He hasn’t answered my calls.”

“Are you talking about James Carter?” Abe interjected as Henry stood there, silent. 

She nodded. “I worry because for the past year, he’s had this stalker, but he’s refused to go to the police. Only because he hadn’t been attacked. I should have tried harder to convince him otherwise.”

At the mention of a stalker involved, Henry recalled his encounter with who he believed was his stalker. He’d been so scared and anxious that he had killed a man he thought to be immortal. But he hadn’t been. It had been a set-up by Adam. That meeting would always haunt him. 

“Oh sorry!” She exclaimed, reddening in embarrassment. “We’re practically strangers and I’m just going on without properly explaining things…”

“I’m Abe, and that’s all right. Henry can do that sometimes too. I’m used to it,” Abe assured her. 

Henry gave Abe an affronted look, but Abe pretended not to notice. 

“Let’s talk in my car,” Abe suggested, just so they could have more privacy. 

Charlotte sat in the back of the car while he and Abe climbed into the front. 

Henry took out the envelope containing the letter and showed it to her. 

“I recovered this letter that your brother left outside the store. But there is no way he could be James Carter. Unless, well, Abraham here believes reincarnation is real. And I’m beginning to think so too.”

Charlotte stared at the letter, skimming over it.

“It’s his handwriting,” she confirmed to him. “At least now I know for sure he went to visit you. We have a starting point.” 

She handed the piece of paper back to Henry. 

“I didn’t think much of reincarnation until recently,” she said. “One year ago, he began talking to me about things he shouldn’t have known otherwise. Things common in the late nineteenth century, early 20th, and the way he spoke of them – so matter-of-fact – that it was like he’d lived in that time period. Soon after, he finally admitted to me that he was very sure that he used to be this Dr. James Carter over a hundred years ago. 

I was shocked, you can imagine, but I could tell he was being serious. So of course I believed him. He was always the more rational one. He’d be the last person to make up a story like this. And then he asked me if I could help him with finding out what happened to you, Henry.”

“He wasn’t expecting to learn what he did,” Henry guessed right away. 

She shook her head. “Yes. We even went to London to research you. I know this sounds intrusive, but he was determined. I encouraged him to see you when we discovered where you lived. He was nervous about it. After all, this isn’t exactly a simple reunion. But now I wish I hadn’t. I won’t be able to live with myself if he doesn’t survive this.”

“We will find him,” Henry assured him. 

Just as he said that, Abe’s cellphone rang. He took the call, and then handed the phone to Henry.

“It’s Adam. He needs to speak to you. It’s urgent.”

Henry gave him a suspicious look. “How does he have your mobile number?”

Abe shrugged. “After what he did for me, I gave him the number after he asked for it. And you can ask him about James.”

“Abraham,” Henry said under his breath, but he took the phone anyway.

“Who’s Adam?” Charlotte wondered, curious.

“The only other immortal we know of,” Abe told her.

“What is it?” Henry spoke into the phone. 

“You know that Roman dagger I asked you to help me find? Well I’ve found the man who has it. I saw him with an unconscious man in a wheelchair going inside an abandoned warehouse. The unconscious man looked familiar. Perhaps a colleague of yours from your distant past?”

“You were stalking me even then?” Henry accused.

“Maybe. I thought you’d be interested.”

“Where is this warehouse?” Henry demanded.

“If you promise to get me my dagger back.”

“A man’s life is at stake! I don’t care about your dagger.”

“You will, when it could potentially kill you. Permanently.”

“Just tell me where, Adam. Now.” Henry almost yelled into the phone, unable to hide his irritation with his former stalker.

“All right.”

Adam gave him the address.

Henry ended the call and handed the phone back to Abe.

“Adam believes this stalker took him to an abandoned warehouse on West 54th Street and 8th Avenue.”

“Heading there.”

“What is his name in this life, Charlotte?” Henry asked her. 

It was a key detail after all. He couldn’t just keep thinking of him as James, his old friend, when in this life he had a different identity. He had a life that up until this point, Henry wasn’t a part of.

“Stephen, his name is Stephen Fletcher. He’s a pulmonologist.”

Henry smiled when she told him his profession. Even if he hadn’t chosen to be a doctor because of his old memories, it still cheered him that he was led down that path. Particularly pulmonology – it was all too much not to be a coincidence.

He set aside his musings as fear grew stronger within him. He might never get the chance to reunite with his old friend. That he’d be going to see a dead body.

He couldn’t bear the thought. He saw James die once. He wouldn’t let him do so again, not before his time.

~ * ~

Henry entered the warehouse, trying his best not to let fear grip him. This was not the way he wanted to see James again, but fate could be unkind.

Halfway into the warehouse, he saw a tall, broad-shouldered man wearing a fedora and wool gray coat. He looked like he was from the 1940s. 

“Well well well, you came,” said the man.

“You wanted me here.”

“Yes. And I expect you were hoping to see your old friend?”

“Where is he? And who are you?”

“My name is not important. But I can tell you that I am a time traveler.”

“Where is James?” Henry demanded. “I want to see him.”

He stepped aside and then he saw James, someone he thought he’d never see again, before him. His eyes were different, like Abe had told him, but the rest of his appearance was so achingly familiar that Henry briefly wondered if James had traveled in time.

He was loosely holding a dagger in his hand, and Henry hoped that wasn’t the dagger Adam was talking about. But it had to be.

“James? James Carter?” Henry asked. 

He needed the confirmation, to hear his voice, to know with a clear certainty that it truly was him. 

“Do it,” said the alleged time traveler to James.

But James wasn’t paying attention to him. He was staring at Henry like he couldn’t believe he was standing there before him.

“You shouldn’t have come,” he said, a note of warning in his voice. 

His grip on the dagger tightened while his other hand was curled up into a fist. He looked like he was battling an internal conflict. Henry noticed sweat coming down his forehead.

Henry had been so concerned about James that he hadn’t fully realized what he’d just said. For the longest time, he’d never thought that he’d hear those words.

For the tattoo on his forearm said: you shouldn’t have come. 

Even if the tattoo had been acting up lately, Henry had sincerely believed that it was only leading him to an old friend.

He could only stand there as he watched James tighten and relax his hold on the dagger.

“What are you waiting for? He’s lived long enough! He wants to die. Just do it.”

“James… don’t listen to him. He’s been stalking you for months. I know what it feels like to be terrorized by a stranger. Don’t let him win.”

James made a quick move, turning away from Henry, and knocked his assailant to the ground. He stabbed him in the chest with the dagger. But to Henry’s surprise, the weapon disappeared and there was no blood loss. It was like the dagger hadn’t even penetrated him. 

“What a shame,” the man said. 

James, furious, immediately laid his hands around the man’s neck and set about strangling him.

Henry knew how he was feeling. Knew that he was finally releasing the pent-up anxiety and fear this man caused him. It was all coming out. 

But Henry wouldn’t allow his old friend to make the same mistake he had. He couldn’t let this man, no matter how despicable he might be, get killed. He didn’t want James to have blood on his hands.

Cautiously, Henry approached him as he knew James wasn’t in the most stable mind-set at the moment.

He kneeled down beside him, reaching out his hand to put on James’ shoulder. 

“James, don’t do this. He isn’t worth it. Please.” He implored him. 

The time traveler was gasping for breath as James strengthened his hold on him. 

“He thought he could make me kill you. But you were my friend.”

“It’s okay, James. He was right. I have lived long enough. Just let him go. Killing him isn’t the answer.”

“You’re not very convincing,” James countered. “I need to stop him.” He told Henry.

“James, please,” Henry said quietly. 

He put his hand over James’. “Please,” he pleaded with him. “You’re a doctor, remember? Now and in your past life. You’re meant to save lives. We’ll find another way. I promise.”

James looked at Henry’s hand, and he nodded. He relaxed his grip on his stalker’s neck, but he stayed on top of him, knees pressing into his thighs, to prevent the other man from standing up. 

“Damn the both of you,” the man huffed out, looking frustrated at being at their mercy. 

James looked up, and stared at the empty space a few feet away rather intently. Henry wasn’t sure what he was looking at but it was something only he could see. 

A moment later, a syringe with a liquid medication appeared beside James.

He grabbed it purposefully and stabbed the trapped man in the arm. 

“What is that?”

“A sedative. He’ll be out for a while.”

James got up off the man, and Henry noticed his hands were trembling.

Henry wanted to ask how the sedative magically appeared for James to use. Because the answer couldn’t have been magic. Could it?

Instead, seeing James’ still shaky hands, Henry put a hand on his shoulder. “Are you all right?”

“It would be best if you stood back,” he told him softly.

Henry did reluctantly, confused.

Then James began to cough hard, and Henry grew especially concerned when blood came out. It was like he had active tuberculosis.

Afterwards, James gave him a crooked smile. Henry noticed the blood had disappeared as if it hadn’t been there in the first place. Similar to the dagger. And James looked well enough, not the ashen grey that passed over his face during the unexpected coughing attack. 

“Don’t worry, it’s not real. It’s just an echo from the past. Other people have bad headaches when they’re stressed, I get this.”

“That’s terrible, James.”

James gave a small chuckle. “Yeah, and it gets better when I worry even more that I’ll actually get the disease. And I could…but I take medication for it.”

“You have latent tuberculosis.” Henry said with a nod. 

“Not surprising to you considering… I’m sorry you had to watch me die.”

“No, James. Don’t say sorry. You were a dear friend of mine. I only wish your life had been spared, that there had been a way to save you back then.”

“I’m glad you were there. Your friendship helped me get through the worst of days,” he told Henry, giving him a small smile.

Henry returned the smile, and then he declared, “James, we need to talk.”

James didn’t look at him, but Henry noticed his shoulders tensing. Shouldn’t this be a happy occasion? They could be soulmates. After so long of not believing he’d ever find his other half, now it was coming true.

“I’m sorry, Henry,” said James. 

His gaze was distant. As if he knew what Henry wanted to ask, but he didn’t want to be a part of the conversation.

“I need to call my sister,” he said. He pulled out his mobile from his back pocket.

Henry observed him as he talked to his sister. He tried to figure out what James was thinking. He thought of his past with James, what he had done wrong. Or was it something Henry had no control over? What if it had to do with the dagger? Of course. James was having a problem with being close to killing him. Even if he had fought it, Henry could only imagine how hard it must have been if his abductor was so intent on succeeding. 

When James was finished with the call, he turned his attention to Henry.

“Wanted to make sure I let her know I was okay. She said she was with Abe.”

“Good.” 

“Who is Abe?”

“I thought you would find out he was my son after researching me.”

“I learned a little bit. You adopted him? Found out he was a lucky survivor from a concentration camp.”

“Yes. A nurse I met on the battlefield, Abigail, and I raised him. He is as good as my son.”

“It must be strange especially now with your condition. All the years that have passed...”

“It’s something I’ve simply had to get used to,” Henry said briskly, not wishing to think about it too deeply. 

He hated to dwell on the fact that one day Abe would die, and he would outlive his son. Half his mind was still on James’ odd behavior and desire to change the subject. 

So Henry chose to play along for a little bit, and not discuss the tattoos just yet. “Would you prefer I call you Stephen? Your sister told me your name in this life -- Dr. Stephen Fletcher.”

James shook his head. “No, it’s all right. Honestly, you calling me Stephen doesn’t sound right. And I’ve begun to think of myself as James anyway. I’m not sure if the pull of the memories is that strong…or,” he looked down to his arm where his tattoo lay. 

That was confirmation if Henry had anything to say about it.

“My nephew doesn’t know. He still calls me Uncle Stephen. I’m not sure if I’ll ever tell him that I’m not like everyone else.”

“I could help you with that. I had the same uncertainty when I had to tell my son about my immortality.”

“Thanks.”

“James. I need to see. You need to see too. You know we have to,” Henry said.

Even if the person’s reaction was clue enough, everyone always checked to see that the tattoos matched the words said. Seeing is believing, and especially in this case, no truer words had ever been spoken.

James nodded, still with a tinge of anxiety about him. He pulled up his forearm and showed Henry his tattoo.

The words were, “James? James Carter?”

To see the words there before him was like a dream that wasn’t a dream any longer. It was reality, a reality he’d been waiting so long to have realized.

Henry pulled up his sleeve for James to see.

“Not what you’d imagine your other half to say,” he said apologetically.

“We’re not like everyone else after all, James. I expect yours was more confusing as you didn’t remember until a year ago.”

“When I was younger, I often pretended that it was the name of my alter ego who possessed special powers. But then I sort of looked into the name when I was older… see who this James Carter was. Of course, there were a lot of people with a name like that. My sister managed to find a picture of a Dr. James Carter from the early 20th century. She found it intriguing, saying that he was probably my ancestor. That I must have gotten my looks from him. I thought it was eerie, and wished I knew why my tattoo said those words. Eventually I discovered that I was more intimately connected to this doctor than I’d previously thought.”

“Do you regret remembering?”

“No, Henry. I know I’m not same person I was before. There’s no going back for me. But if this change led me to find you, my soulmate… how can I regret it? Every single man and woman on this Earth is looking for their soulmate,” he said, spreading his arms wide. He chuckled for a moment. “And we found each other. I never thought…when I was looking to see you again that this would happen. But it did, and…”

“James, why did you look uneasy earlier? There’s something you’re not telling me.”

That’s when James paled as if he’d seen a ghost, and sweat came down his face. He collapsed to the ground, feeling his forehead.

“Yes that’s a fever,” he said to himself. He laughed. 

“You’re delirious,” Henry said. He knelt down beside him to feel James’ brow. He was burning up.

“Stay back,” James told him.

He coughed hard, and it sounded quite painful as a pool of blood came out. 

“This is the echo again,” Henry decided, hoping it was the case. He couldn’t lose James now so soon after finding him again. He had to believe this was an illusion.

James nodded. He pressed his hand to his forehead. He looked exhausted. But his coughs became less severe. 

Henry sat down beside him, moving James to rest his head on his shoulder.

“You’re stressed, I understand. There’s something you can’t tell me. I’m okay with that, James. I hate to see you like this even if it isn’t real. I know what it’s like to keep secrets. There are things I haven’t told anyone, not even Abe. Please, don’t worry yourself over this.”

“I’m terribly sorry, Henry,” he said sadly.

“No need to apologize. I just want you to be okay. I want to get to know you as you are now.”

The blood disappeared to Henry’s relief. Color returned to James’ face and he looked well again. 

He moved away from Henry, so he sat beside him.

“Did you really mean it, Henry? That you wanted to die?”

“It was simply a poor attempt to calm you down.”

“Good. I was concerned for a moment there,” James said with a small smile.

“James,” he said quietly. He reached out his hand to him, but he hesitated.

Adam walked in at that moment.

Henry stood up, frowning at him. “Your dagger disappeared. James could have killed me with it.”

“The pugio doesn’t like to be in human hands for long,” Adam commented thoughtfully. “And what stopped you from using the dagger? It’s supposed to have strong compulsion powers.”

James still remained seated. He bit his lip, looking upset at that particular question.

Henry was about to interject. He didn’t want James to think about what could have happened. He’d been through enough.

But James spoke up, his tone subdued, “I saw Henry as a friend. I couldn’t allow the dagger to control me. And that man had been stalking me for a while now. I would rather die than let him break me by turning me into a murderer.”

“Impressive,” Adam murmured, looking to James. 

“You should take care of that man over there. He said he’s a time traveler. He had the dagger and abducted James. You will not question James any further,” Henry said firmly. 

He glared down Adam, daring him to do the opposite.

Fortunately he did not try Henry’s withering patience. Adam went to the man still lying prone on the ground. Henry was surprised that he wanted Adam to murder the man. He felt so passionately about insuring this abductor paid the price for what he had done.

Was this what it felt like to have a soulmate? To care so much about them to want those who harmed them to pay dearly?

No, he had felt the same about Abigail, worrying when she was hurt. Wanting her to be okay. But somehow with James it was different, like a physical pain in his heart. Then again, Abigail had never gone through what James had. To be abducted against his will, forced to kill a friend.

Henry was angry, furious, on his behalf.

Never again.

Henry offered his hand to James. “Adam will take care of him. We should go.”

He asked, taking Henry’s hand and standing up. “Do you trust Adam?”

“In this matter, yes I do.” 

Though Henry felt like it was almost a physical struggle to admit that. Especially considering his usual wariness with Adam. 

They left the warehouse, finding both Abe and Charlotte there. Charlotte immediately went to her brother, hugging him. 

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” She said, checking his face for any injuries. 

“No he didn’t. Henry came in time,” James assured her. 

Henry nodded. “That I did. Adam proved helpful this time. He’s taking care of the abductor now.”

“Taking care of?” Abe questioned.

“Yes,” he said curtly, declining to provide more detail. “That man won’t trouble James any longer.”

Henry could tell from the suspicious look on Abe’s face that he knew that there was a lot more to the story. And that Henry couldn’t avoid telling him the truth. Anyway, if there was one person he would tell, it would certainly be his son. Abe deserved honesty, and Henry would give it to him. In private at least.

“I can offer you a ride home,” Abe told James and Charlotte. 

“To James’ apartment should be fine. I can find my way from there.”

“What about Avery?” James asked her.

“Mom said she’d drop him off at school. Not a happy camper when I woke him up so early with little explanation. I didn’t want to worry him. I’m just so glad you’re all right. Thank you, Henry, for helping. I don’t know how I can repay you.”

“No need. I would always help an old friend. I expect nothing in return.”

James gave the address to Abe. 

The car ride went mostly uneventfully with Abe bringing up stories of growing up with Henry as his father. It seemed that Charlotte was James’ closest confidante, as she knew about Abe as well. They had gone together to London to research Henry after all. 

Henry was grateful for that. It wasn’t easy to come by someone to entrust your secrets too. His immortality was a hard thing to comprehend and accept. He knew he was all too lucky to have Abe by his side. And he was sure James was grateful to have his sister’s support. 

While Charlotte and Abe were engaged in conversation, Henry saw James looking very reserved. From his memories, he always remembered James as one earnest to fill up the silences. Something he had in common with the other man.

Was the secret he was keeping from Henry still weighing him down?

“James? How are you doing?”

“I was just wondering how you died the first time.”

Charlotte and Abe finished their conversation. Abe looked meaningfully to Henry -- “tell him” his expression said.

“I was on a ship bound for the Americas in the year 1814. I was defending a sick man. The captain believed he was contagious though I reassured him he was most definitely not. But since my patient was a slave, the captain decided to throw the man overboard. He wouldn’t trust my word, the word of a doctor. I stood in front of my patient, stopping him from being taken. That’s when the captain, angry at my meddling as you imagine, shot me in the chest with his flintlock. I was thrown overboard into the ocean. I never expected to wake up in the water, alive again, but completely naked. Every time I’ve died since I wake up in the nearest body of water naked as well. I don’t understand why. For now, my condition may be a mystery I might never solve.”

“This could be your reward for defending that man.”

“Sometimes it seems more like a curse to me.”

“Living until the end of the world sounds frightening,” Charlotte said thoughtfully. “I can see that being a curse. We all fear death, but to live on and on…”

“It’s not a preferable alternative,” Henry finished.

“True… but still, you helped more people during your long life compared to how many you would have if you had died in 1814,” James pointed out.

“I wouldn’t have had as good a dad as you,” Abe reminded Henry.

“And I as good a son,” he said fiercely.

“And I wouldn’t have gotten to see you again,” James said, smiling. 

Henry saw him looking toward where his tattoo was underneath his shirt.

“Not so much of a bad thing now, is it?” Abe said.

“No, it’s not,” Henry conceded.

Once they reached James’ apartment, James and his sister got out of the car. Before she left, Charlotte thanked Abe for the ride and for keeping her company as she waited anxiously to see her brother again.

Abe put his hand on Henry’s arm. He looked at his son questioningly.

“Here,” he said, placing a small piece of paper into his hand with the number to the store as well as Henry’s number at work. “So he could contact you. Unless you’ll finally get a cellphone.”

Henry frowned at him. “You know I won’t.”

“Right, yeah. Forget I said anything.” Abe said quickly, though he gave a small chuckle. 

Far too used to Henry’s response that Henry expected he found some amusement at the stubbornness. Still, Henry was grateful Abe thought ahead with writing down the phone numbers. Henry was still so preoccupied with reuniting with his old friend that he would have forgotten to tell James how best to reach him.

“Good luck.” He patted him on the arm.

Henry exited the car, seeing James waiting in front of the apartment building for him, his sister having gone inside. 

“I want to see you again.”

“We have a lot of catching up to do,” James said lightly, smiling as he stated the obvious. “Here’s my number and address. I’m glad to see you, Henry,” he said.

He handed him the piece of paper. And in return, Henry handed him his contact details that Abe had prepared for him.

“Thank you for being there. Not sure what I would have done if you hadn’t talked me out of it.”

“I’ve felt the same way in the past. I know how hard it is.”

He nodded. He looked ill at ease, like he was uncomfortable in Henry’s presence. 

“Until later then,” said James. 

He raised his hand, but then seemed to think better of it, and only smiled, nodding at him.

Henry was puzzled, not used to James shying away from touching him. It bothered him, and he wanted to change that. 

“Yes, until later. Perhaps this evening?”

“Okay. I’ll see you.”

And then James went inside leaving Henry deciding that he had to be the one to make the first move. To prove to James that he wanted this, that he couldn’t be happier that he was his soulmate.

That he wanted to be with James for as long as possible. 

Still thinking on this, Henry returned to the car.

Abe looked sideways at him, concerned. “You all right?”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you going to see James again?”

“Yes,” Henry said. “We have a lot of catching up to do.”

He did his best to smile reassuringly at his son.

Abe seemed satisfied for the moment and turned on the engine to drive back home.

Henry’s mind drifted off to the long gone past. To one of his darkest moments. 

The memory was during his time at Charring Cross, the asylum Nora had put him into.

_Nora came by one afternoon to visit him._

_A piece of hope he still kept then was the tattoo, the first words his soulmate would say to him. Surely he would meet his soulmate one day? And considering Nora’s betrayal, Henry was grateful that she wasn’t his soulmate. He didn’t doubt that would break him more completely than any of the scientific experiments the doctors here put him through._

_“Oh Henry. What kind of soulmate says ‘you shouldn’t have come.’ You’re not well, Henry. And you may never get better. You must forget the notion of ever having a soulmate. The poor soul won’t know how to deal with you.”_

_Henry had never been as angry with her as he was at that moment. How could she be so cruel to him?_

_She left him shortly after with a brisk goodbye. Henry prayed he would never see her again._

_That night, a knife appeared beside him on the hard bed in his cell. He saw that as a sign, to rid himself of the writing on his forearm. Nora’s damning words echoed in his head._

_He wished he could pretend she hadn’t said them. But the words still hurt him. No matter what Nora had done to him, she had still been his wife and once he had loved her, been in love with her. While that seemed like a long time ago, that was the truth. And her words still affected him, still could cut him deeply no matter if he wished they didn’t._

_Henry took the knife in hand, and ignoring the tears running down his face, he set it down over the tattoo on his forearm._

_He wanted to scream, to cry out loud. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t._

_Yet he pressed the knife down so that the skin broke and a few drops of blood appeared. He was breathing hard, overwhelmed with the magnitude of what he was doing._

_Then the tattoo changed to the words, “Don’t do it” before shifting back to the words it had been before._

_Henry didn’t know if he was truly losing his mind or if he was really seeing those words. He dropped the knife then and he took a deep breath, releasing it, and looked up in thanks._

_He was going to be okay. Someone was looking out for him._

And now he had an answer to who his soulmate was. Even if James had some secret weighing on him, Henry could wait forever for his old friend to confide in him. Right now, at this moment, Henry let the relief, the happiness win. 

When they returned home, Abe looked to him as they stood inside the store.

“What aren’t you telling me, Dad?”

“Abe…”

“The tattoo, isn’t it? That meant something when you felt it burning you. Just tell me the truth.”

“Is this really the best place, Abraham? Perhaps we should go to the kitchen.”

“I want to hear it now.” He said, giving Henry a look.

“James, or this incarnation of James to be more correct, is my soulmate…if you believe in the power of these tattoos,” he admitted, but then he was quick to add, “But I will fight anyone if they think your mother wasn’t my soulmate. Because in my heart she was and always will be.” Henry spoke fiercely, determined to get this across. It was how he truly felt after all.

“You don’t need to prove that to me, Dad. I saw how you looked at her, how much you loved her. Not having the tattoo to prove it doesn’t matter. I’d still like to believe your condition changes the rules. If anyone deserves to have more than one soulmate, it’s you. I just want you to be happy. I’m glad you have your old friend back in some form. I look forward to meeting him properly.”

“Thank you, Abraham.”

“Now I don’t have to worry about you so much,” he quipped, smiling, and patting him on the shoulder. “Always good to have another secret keeper, two, if you count his very adaptable sister.”

Henry pulled his son into a hug, grateful at how supportive he was. He knew he shouldn’t have been surprised. Abraham had been through a lot with him after all. Still sometimes he needed to be reminded of that support and understanding.

~ * ~

Adam stared hard at the man, knowing what he wanted to ask this alleged time traveler.

“What was your plan? Did you know the dagger would kill Henry? You wanted to make it happen.”

The man only smiled. “I think you should be more worried about your future. I’ve traveled to the last days of the Earth, and you’re not doing too well.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Being the only immortal can be frustrating, I imagine.”

“So Henry has found a way to die in the future.”

“I visited you, you know, while you were in the mental hospital. Voluntary admission.”

Adam glared at him for changing the subject.

“When will Henry die? How? Tell me.”

The man chuckled. “Knowing that won’t help you. Like I said before, you should concern yourself with changing your future.”

“You think that could be done?”

“If you’re willing to pay the price, then yes. I admit I’ve done regrettable deeds but I do want to help you. I saw you were tracking me because of that dagger. You were even ready to reveal yourself as an immortal because life had lost meaning to you. That you didn’t care what experimentation and torture they’d put you through. Not anymore.”

“If you think this is helping me, you’re the mad one,” Adam said.

He wished he had a knife or dagger on hand so he could hurt the man, make him feel pain.

Then unexpectedly, the man began to flicker in and out. “With my ability to travel through time, I have little choice in what year I end up. Perhaps I’ll see you.” He smirked.

He disappeared, an empty space where he had once been.

“Damnit,” Adam muttered. 

Henry wasn’t going to like it if he found out the truth. That the man who’d abducted his friend wasn’t dead.

Adam knew he had to do the right thing. 

Lie to Henry.

~ * ~

“Good evening, James,” said Henry. 

“Hi Henry. Come in.”

“Thank you,” He said as he entered the apartment.

“You’re cooking?” Henry asked, surprised.

James gave a crooked smile, chuckling. 

Henry was grateful to see him appear so relaxed.

“Blame my sister. She went off on me when Avery came here sometimes. Didn’t want me taking the easy way out and giving him mac and cheese. That being a doctor, I should know better. And you know, I do want to see my nephew, so I gave in and well, attempted to learn how to cook.”

“An admirable reason,” said Henry. 

James smiled, shrugging. He looked resigned but happy. Henry could certainly tell how important his family was to him. 

“It’ll be spaghetti. Hope that’s okay.”

“Can’t think of anything I’d like more.” Henry noticed the framed photo on the side table. It was of a redheaded child grinning toothily, a chocolate birthday cake with the number 8 candle decorating the middle of it.

“Is this your nephew?” Henry asked. 

James nodded. “Yes, that’s Avery. From his birthday a few months ago.”

“Thought you’d be interested in the handkerchief,” James pointed out with the ladle he was using for the noodles.

Directing his gaze to the living room wall, Henry saw the framed handkerchief. He stepped closer to it and peered at the cloth. He noticed the monogram “HM” on it and he knew immediately that it was his. 

But how did it end up here?

“That handkerchief was given to my great-grandmother on the Titanic,” he explained. “My mom gave it to me after I graduated med school. She thought it’d be fitting I’d be the one since the handkerchief came from a doctor. That the story behind it would inspire me. That the path I’d chosen was the right one.”

“It’s mine. But you know that.” Henry noted, seeing James’ nod.

“I remember you had those back in my past life. When I remembered, I looked at the handkerchief differently. Before, I thought every family is allowed one strange heirloom. But now, well, it reminds me of you.”

“I never thought I would see it again,” Henry admitted. “Her name was Mary, wasn’t it?”

Henry couldn’t forget her. Especially after he’d let her keep his handkerchief. Yet he’d never expected this. For that young woman to become an ancestor of his old friend’s incarnation. Fate was a strange and beautiful thing, indeed. 

“Yes it was.”

Henry remembered that terrible April night in 1912.

_She was only eighteen with curly red hair and blue eyes._

_Henry refused a seat on a lifeboat though he was a First Class passenger. He expected to drown – his least liked method of death. Yet he felt that as a doctor, he’d stay and be more use in saving other people’s lives. He’d take saving others over saving his own life in a heartbeat._

_She looked tearful as she wandered on the deck, her arms wrapped around herself in a poor attempt to keep warm. Others seemed to dismiss her, more interested in saving themselves or loved ones. With her modest clothing, the young woman certainly came from a more humble background. It concerned him that she was alone like this. Henry went to her, earnest to ease her distress even a little bit._

_“Are you all right, Miss?”_

_“I’m fine… I’m – I’m with child. What do I do?” She said, sounding lost, her accent showing she was from Ireland._

_“My name is Henry. I’m a doctor. What’s your name?”_

_“Mary, Sir.”_

_“Do you have any family here with you?”_

_She shook her head. “I had to leave. I came alone… I’m so afraid. I don’t want to die.”_

_“You won’t, I promise you, Mary. Where were you traveling to?”_

_“New York…my aunt lives there… I was looking forward to seeing her,” she said, hopeless, as if she still imagined she would perish in this disaster._

_Tears streamed down her face._

_“You will see her. Trust me, Mary.”_

_He wiped her face with his handkerchief, giving it to her afterwards._

_“I’m eighteen, Sir… and now it’s my fault my baby will never be born.”_

_“No, don’t think like that.”_

_Henry put his arm around her as she sniffled in the handkerchief, looking so young, and lost._

_He pushed his way through a line to the lifeboats._

_“This woman is with child! She needs to get on a lifeboat!” he declared, projecting his voice. He was determined to see this young woman to safety._

_She coughed. “Thank you, Sir, but I’m just a Third Class passenger. I don’t matter.”_

_“Everyone deserves to live. Women and children first, didn’t you hear? You will be on a lifeboat, do you understand?”_

_She nodded, keeping close to him, still looking so afraid and doubtful she’d see another day._

_Henry continued to steer her forward, calling to get her to a lifeboat._

_Finally they made it to the front and Henry insured she was secured on to the boat._

_“Your handkerchief…I can’t keep it,” she told him, holding it up so that the “HM” monogram showed emblazoned on the bottom right-hand corner._

_“I have plenty more. That one’s yours. I think you need it more than I do.”_

_“Thank you. I won’t forget you, Sir. Will you be all right?” Mary asked him, sounding especially anxious for his well-being._

_Her lifeboat – full of other distraught passengers -- was lowered down into the cold water._

_Henry was quick to reassure her. “Don’t worry about me. Take care of yourself and the baby. Promise me.”_

_He saw fresh tears come down her face._

_“God bless you, Sir. I promise… thank you.”_

_They smiled at each other, and then she was gone, disappearing from view._

“Was she okay?" Henry asked, coming back to present day. "I assume she was able to see her aunt.”

“Yes she did see her. My great-grandmother survived the ordeal the best way anyone can. There was survivor’s guilt, but she did her best to grow stronger from that tragedy.”

“Did she have the child?”

James nodded. “A healthy girl. She got married of course months before giving birth. It was the early 20th century after all. But she married her soulmate, and well, that helped when she had to admit that her daughter wasn’t his. They had three more children after that, two boys and finally, another girl. The six of them were happy together. And the youngest of Mary’s children was my grandmother, Bridget.”

“I’m glad to hear that. I remember being worried about her. Sometimes I thought of visiting her, to see how she was doing. But since I died on the Titanic, I had to limit contact.”

“She would have loved to see you I’m sure. But I understand. At least she had your handkerchief to remember you by.”

Henry smiled back. “I’m flattered it’s survived all these years.”

“Being a family heirloom, we were determined to preserve it. Mary insisted.” James told him.

He prepared the plates with pasta. Henry moved to assist him, and noticed that James’ hands trembled a bit.

“Are you all right?”

James flashed him a smile. “I’m okay. Just you know, with my past life and never getting the chance to have this. I suppose fate knew I wouldn’t live long anyway.”

He shrugged. Henry knew he was talking about losing his soulmate before ever meeting the person. A situation most wished never to happen to them.

“Don’t talk like that,” Henry couldn’t help but scold him.

“I’m nervous, that’s all. With how long you’ve lived and all that you’ve been through, I must sound ridiculous to you.”

“No, not at all. I feel the same. I may have loved people who I wished were my soulmates, but I couldn’t deny they weren’t. I couldn’t be happier that I found you.”

James remained quiet, focusing on putting food on the plates. 

“James, look at me please,” Henry said. 

James sighed, setting down the serving spoon. He turned to face Henry. As he looked closely at him, Henry was thrown by his startling eyes. And yet everything else about him was so familiar – the shape of his face, his smile, mannerisms. He was looking at a stranger and a friend at the same time. It was disorienting, but he wanted to stay.

He placed his hand on his cheek, taking note to see if James would object. Yet he only looked back at Henry expectantly, his light eyes darkening. Leaning in, Henry pressed his lips to his, the stubble tickling his skin but not uncomfortable, strangely. It was something completely different and wonderful.

James relaxed against him, his breathing grew shallower, and he returned the kiss, opening his mouth a little to let Henry in. 

Henry had to admit that this was one of the few times he was grateful that he had all the time in the world.

Perhaps he would even be willing to microwave dinner if it got too cold. 

Some things were more important after all. 

~ * ~ * ~

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't reveal what secret James is keeping from Henry because I'm considering a sequel dealing with that. And I feel it's too early after they see each other again for James to tell Henry this particular secret.
> 
> Thank you for reading! :-)


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